


Despair and Passion

by menshouldbelikekleenex



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Dom connor, F/M, Feelings, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, POV Third Person, Philosophy, Smut, Some Plot, Wall Sex, reader is female
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 23:47:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15035954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/menshouldbelikekleenex/pseuds/menshouldbelikekleenex
Summary: Connor confronts the woman he thought he knew.





	Despair and Passion

“Judging by the agents we saw today, I guess you’re not really with the FBI?”

She had a gun pointed at him, trained on his thirium pump. If she shot, he’d shut down and she would get away. She had an easy grin on her face as she shifted slightly on the soft carpet. They were in her hotel room. It was just them, and as far as he could tell, he was the only one to figure out her little secret.

“Well, I hope that’s not your only clue considering I’m threatening to shoot you. But yes, that would be correct,” she said. “I knew they’d get involved eventually; I just thought it’d be a _little_ bit longer and I’d be in the clear.”

Connor frowned. “When I scanned you, it said you were part of the FBI. How could you bypass the system?”

She rolled her eyes and rested one of her arms across her stomach, the one with the gun going to rest on that. He still knew that the gun was still pointed directly at his thirium pump. He had seen her shoot just a few times before, and from what he could tell, she was almost as deadly of a shot as him.

“For a super smart android, you’re pretty dumb.” She clucked her tongue and gave him another cheeky grin at his annoyed expression. “I didn’t do any of that. I could, if I wanted, but it would take months and probably only last a few days before I was found out. No, my employer helped me out.”

“Employer…?” His LED spun rapidly, blinking yellow in the low light of the room. “So you’re a hired gun?”

“Hired gun, spy, assassin,” she said with a shrug. Her grin turned into a smirk. “I’m whatever you need me to be.”

“So who are you working for? Russia? China?” He took a step forward and instantly her relaxed pose and smile disappeared. He raised his hands to show he meant no harm. “What benefit do they get out of sending you here?”

She scoffed. “They’re nothing more than red herrings.” She glanced around for a second before shrugging. “I’m working for Elijah Kamski.”

“Wha–”

“He has this test—arrogant prick calls it the Kamski Test—to try to see if androids are capable of empathy. Said something about that’s how you tell if they’re a deviant. I’m simply here to observe and, if need be, give a little _push_.”

“Did he tell you what causes deviancy?”

She raised an eyebrow but decided to humor him. He was programmed to seek out the truth of deviants after all. She could hardly blame him. And besides, she had grown fond of him over the course of her job. While she would never admit it, she felt inklings of attraction to the android. She wasn’t sure she knew exactly what it meant to like, love, or feel for someone, but she would say the person she ever came the closest to was him.

“No.” She smirked at his crestfallen face, trying to cover her own thoughts about him. “Have you ever heard of Kierkegaard?”

“Søren Kierkegaard, born May–”

“I meant his philosophy, pretty boy.” He blinked and said nothing, so she continued. “He wrote several books, but the two that really stick out are _Fear and Trembling_ and _The Sickness Unto Death._ Kierkegaard comes to conclusion that the sickness unto death is despair, and despair comes from _wanting_ to be oneself and _not_ wanting to be oneself. ‘The relation's relating itself to itself in the relation.’”

She paused now, letting her words sink in for a second. His brow was furrowed and his LED was flashing yellow but he was still listening. She took a step forward.

“He attributes it to falling out of line with God’s vision, but I don’t think that’s it. I think it’s falling out of line with your own. Becoming complicit in the world, but never acting in it. Allowing yourself to _be_ and not _become_. But, there are rare moments when we rise above this despair. He calls it passion. We leave behind our confusion over the self and act out of a true desire to be free and do good.

“It’s our inability to reconcile with the fact that we exist in a universe that _doesn’t care that we exist._ And that’s in a being that knows it is alive. Imagine what it’s like when you think you’re nothing but a tool to be used in a cold, indifferent world… So I guess there’s a little Heidegger thrown in there.”

“But we are just tools. We aren’t alive.”

“What does it mean, Connor, to be alive?”

He opened his mouth, but closed it again, confused by the question. He had never given it honest thought. He always just repeated what he’d been told by his programming.

“Is it a heartbeat? The ability to think? A reason to fight? Cause you have all of those, Connor and there are people who lack some. Specifically the last one, but...” She shrugged.

She could see him processing what she said, so she took several steps forward until they were only about three feet apart. Her gun was still trained on him. What must it feel like, to have everything you knew ripped out from under you. He seemed to mull over what she said slowly. Before his eyes flickered to the gun.

He shot forward, faster than a human could react to. He batted her hand away, but she used the momentum to swing around with her knee. He didn’t flinch, instead grabbing her knee to push her back. She stumbled but right herself enough to duck out of the way of his next swipe.

She was fast, he admitted. Most of the humans he had fought in his time were slow and clearly outmatched. She wasn’t. He had done his research when he realized she was lying to them about who she really was. Found out she was on a covert kill squad for years before being discharged. Ended up doing good and bad things for all sides.

Seeing an opening, she lunged for the gun, but Connor was there first. Suddenly, it was a mess of limbs and punches, her trying to elbow him in the face and him not reacting. After a few seconds of grunts and panting, they settled. The gun was in his hand and she was below him. He was sitting on her hips and she was glaring up at him. He had the gun pointed at her head.

He tried to ignore the feeling of her under him. He tried to ignore the way her hips squirmed as she tried to shake him off. He tried to ignore the way his thirium seemed to thunder through his body. He wasn’t a deviant—he couldn’t be a deviant—but he noted that he felt… different about her than he did about everyone else. Had he been human, he would call it attraction.

“What are you waiting for?” she said. “I’m a criminal. I’m dangerous. You shouldn’t be hesitating to kill me.”

“You’re human,” he said instantly, but she didn’t miss the way his LED flashed _red_ for the briefest of moments. “I’m supposed to protect humans.”

“Not me.” She shook her head. “I know your programming. You’re not supposed to spare people like me. Like you weren’t supposed to save Hank. Or spare those Tracis.”

She leaned forward until her forehead was pressed against the barrel of the gun. Her eyes locked with him and he saw her utter determination in them. She wasn’t afraid, as most people would be if there was a gun pointed at her head. But he supposed it was a common sight for her.

“So, I guess this is the final test, Connor. Are you a person or a machine?”

_Software Instability_

_Software Instability_

_Software Instability_

_Software Instability_

_Software Instability_

“Was it all fake then?” he asked quietly. The gun hung loosely from his grasp at this point, his head hung down in a way that broke her heart. She wasn’t expecting the betrayal on his face. “Were you just kind to me because of your mission? To get me to be a deviant? Even now, is that your goal?"

She paused, her head falling slack against the floor. He looked truly broken up that their interactions were nothing but a formality to her. His LED spun and spun, alerting her to his conflicting feelings. She tilted her head slightly.

“I did enjoy talking to you. I never lied to you about that. I… I care about you as much as I can allow myself to care about anyone. If things had been different, I think I could have loved you.”

* * *

She had bought a house on the outskirts of Detroit. It wasn’t big, but she didn’t want to draw attention to herself and it was only temporary. She was sure they had found her by now; she left more than enough clues.

There was a noise from her living room, a creek. She grabbed the gun beside her. She didn’t plan on using it, but it made her feel better. The footsteps grew closer, but she didn’t turn, even when they stopped at the doorway of her study.

“They’ve almost found you.”

It was a voice she recognized readily. She turned in her chair to take him in. He hadn’t changed in the few weeks since she’d seen him. But she’d seen the news. She knew he had deviated and saved the androids at the eleventh hour.

“I know. I want them to.”

She stood from her seat and put the gun back down on the desk. He looked the same—not even his outfit changed. She would have expected him to shed his android jacket after the revolution, but it seemed he chose to keep it.

“Why?” His brow furrowed. Why would she want to be caught?

“I… I’ve been compromised.” Her voice wavered slightly. It was the first time he’d ever seen her confidence fail. “Some old target I thought I killed wants me dead. He has a lot more manpower than me considering I have none. Jail might be the only thing that will keep me alive.”

“You’re in danger.” It wasn’t a question.

He took a step forward. She took a half-step back and her legs hit the desk. He could see tears gathering in her eyes and he felt his non-existent stomach drop. He thought a lot about her after he deviated. Their time working together. Their conversations when Hank wasn’t listening. That night in the hotel when she almost caused him to deviate. He had rearranged his feelings and realized that he… wanted her. To be near her. To protect her. To have her.

“Yes.”

“I can protect you,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to go to jail to be safe.”

“And when they find out your harboring a wanted criminal?”

Her former confidence was back as she challenged him. There was a fire in her eyes as she clenched her fists at her sides. Connor took several steps forward this time; suddenly, they were so close that she could feel the artificial heat radiating off of his body. She had to crane her neck up to look at him, but she never backed down, never conceded.

“I’ll deal with it. You’ve done a lot of good mixed in with the bad. I’ll get you amnesty.” He paused, his hand reaching out to trace her cheekbones, down her neck, before finally resting on her shoulder. “I care about you. I have for a while—even before I deviated. I don’t want to lose you.”

He didn’t need to scan her to tell that his words affected her. Her chest, barely clad in more than a tight tank top, rose and fell in increasingly quick intervals, which he was more than happy to observe happen. Her lips parted slightly as she stared up at him. Her pupils were blown wide, probably from having caught him staring at her chest, if he had to hazard a guess.

“I’m not a good person, Connor. You won’t be able to save me, and you deserve so much better.”

“Don’t!” he exclaimed. His hands slammed down on the desk behind her, trapping her between him and the wood. He hung his head, similar to when he had her pinned those few weeks ago. “Don’t say that.” He was quieter now, his voice a mere whisper from beside her ear. “I know who you are—you’ve shown me your true self. Just because you’ve fallen out of line with your vision doesn’t mean your despair will last forever. You’ll have your moment of passion.”

She looked at him for a moment, as if truly seeing him for the first time. It was strange to hear her philosophy spat back out at her but comforting all the same—like that blanket you come back to when the world just wants to tear you down into nothing.

“Will I?”

She wasn’t sure what she said that caused that smirk to spread so deliciously across his face, but her breath caught in her throat at the sight of it. Slowly, he pressed his hips against hers, pinning her to desk. Her eyes caught his in question before they closed in surprise when he kissed her.

It was urgent, pressing against her as if she would disappear if he let her (which she had done before and probably would do again). His mouth slanted against hers in a way that made no sense for a _detective_ android to know, but she pushed that aside with a moan when he started to lick and nip at her lip.

He pulled back with that same smirk plastered on his face. “You will. I can help you, if you wish.”

Gone was the awkward android who she had known. He was more like the person he became when he was interrogating people, which might’ve concerned her if she wasn’t into it. She hadn’t thought he knew much about sex outside of the fact that it existed.

“Now, I don’t think that’s the type of passion Kierkegaard was talking about,” she said with a laugh.

“Perhaps not,” he acknowledge. “But I still think it’s worth exploring.”

“Did you, like, download how to flirt or something?” she said.

It broke the spell that had fallen over them slightly, enough that he pulled back to look at her face. He was still close to her, his hands on either side of her body. A small smile overcame his face as he tilted his head.

“Yes, I did. I also looked into sex.” He paused, his eyes dark in ways that she thought looked wholly human. “Does that… please you?”

She licked her lips, his eyes darting to catch the movement. His hips pressed against her harder now, and she could feel the outline of his semi-hard dick in his pants. Cyberlife was dedicated to realism and perfect of the human form, so it made sense that he would have a dick, but God, did it make it hard to think when it was pressed up against her.

“Yes,” she answered, her voice nothing more than a breath. “Yes, it does.”

“Good.”

He all but attacked her, his lips once more encompassing hers. She moaned slightly as he tipped her head back to get a better angle. His hands trailed down from her shoulders down to her hips. She thought he would stop there, but he kept going until his large palms rested firmly on her ass.

He was grinning as he grasped her and lifted, placing her on the desk. He pushed himself between her legs and let out a groan at feeling her pressed up against his erection. She was so beautiful, he thought as he pulled back. Her chest was heaving, her pupils dilated, her lips swollen and parted.

His lips found her neck to let her catch her breath. She let him do what he wanted, moaning as he bit and sucked at her neck in a way that he definitely should not know how to do. The only time he paused his when her hips bucked up from a particularly forceful nip on her skin. His LED flashed red, a growl torn from his throat.

“Your shirt,” he managed to say. “Take it off.”

It was off within seconds, and he worked her bra off before for roughly grabbing her chest.

“Connor.”

It was moaned out and loud. The name sent a shiver down his spine and straight to his cock. She was so enticing, he thought. There were so many things he wanted to do with her, so many ways he wanted to touch her and be touched by her. But there was always tomorrow. He would get his chance to do everything he wanted—he would make sure of it.

He stepped back to assess the situation before smirking. With one solid push, her back met the wood beneath her. Connor gently placed the gun off the to the side before hovering over her. He placed a kiss on her lips before trailing down her body, his tongue peeking out to mark where he’d been. Her breathing was absolutely ragged by the time he reached the edge of her shorts.

With agonizing slowness, he tugged them down, his fingers hooking into her panties to remove them as well. She was completely bare before him, and he thought he was close to overheating.

“Look at me.” His voice was hoarse and it shattered the silence that fell over the room. She lifted her head to gaze down at him. “Don’t you dare look away.”

With that, he devoured her. His mouth closed over her clit as he sucked harshly, his eyes never leaving hers. She keened loudly, her breasts heaving as she tried to suck in enough breath. His smirk never let his face as he slowly started to press a finger into her. Her hips bucked, but his unused hand went to her hips to keep her still. He was more than strong enough to restrain her with one hand.

She hadn’t been with anyone for a while (and she hated to admit that the last person she fucked was Elijah Kamski), so she was almost embarrassed at how fast Connor managed to work her. She could feel her orgasm building up and tried uselessly to buck her hips to get more of his mouth, his fingers, his everything. When a second finger dipped into her, her head shot back as she let out the loudest moan yet.

And then he stopped. She almost cried as she felt the coils of her peak retreat, and glared at him when he tsked at her quietly, that same smirk on his face. He backed up as she tried to pull him back and kiss him, moving out her range.

“I told you not to look away,” he said. There was amusement in his voice.

He knew exactly what he was doing as he slowly raised his fingers to his lips and slowly placed them in his mouth. She’d seen him do it plenty of times when she was undercover and she would be lying if she said she didn’t find it kind of sexy even then. Her lips parted, but she quickly recollected herself and glared at him.

“Jerk.”

She was moving as she said it, jumping off of the desk. She landed on wobbly legs, but refused to show any weakness. Her steps toward him were confident despite the fact that he still looked very much in control of the whole situation. When she reached him, she looked him in the eye before slowly letting herself fall to her knees.

He looked down at her with what she could only guess was care as she worked on his belt buckle. He gave her no assistance as she opened his pants and pulled it down just enough to watch his hard cock spring free.

Perhaps she'd question why he wasn’t wearing underwear at a different time. Perhaps she’d wonder why Cyberlife made his cock so large when he was, again, a _detective_ android. But for now, she simply looked him in the eyes and let herself sink down on his length.

His groan was loud as his hands came to grip her hair tightly. He didn’t buck, which she appreciated. He was panting above her, watching as her lips stretched obscenely around his length. His hands urged her further down, his background scans—which he tried to turn off, but couldn’t work around—kept him in the know if he ever tried to push her too far.

He grabbed her wandering hands, placing them on his hips. “Keep them here. Don’t move.” He was pleased when she listened to him.

Her spit dripped down her chin and down his cock, making her glisten in a way that went straight to the cock between her lips. But he kept his own rules, never breaking eye contact with her as she took him down her throat. His fingers twitched in her hair, his hips jerking. She gagged slightly, but didn’t seem put off, her tongue still moving enthusiastically against him.

Distantly, she wondered if an android could cum.

She didn’t get to find out as he pulled her off, his breath, which she knew he didn’t need, came out with pants, his face tinged blue with what she supposed was a blush. His hair was a mess, falling into his face. It was satisfying to see him so wrecked.

Her satisfaction was short lived as he yanked her up. With his hands gripping her ass, he hauled her up until her legs wrapped around his narrow waist. The hot length of his cock was pressed up against her and she threw her head back to let out a loud moan. He made a few quick strides and pressed her up against the wall.

“Are you ready?” he groaned. He really hoped she was because he ached so earnestly for her that he wasn’t sure what he’d do if she said no. He didn’t even undress fully, wanting to take her as fast as possible.

“Yes,” she moaned.

His smirk was the last thing she saw before he impaled her on his cock. A scream tore itself from her throat as she arched against him. He was so large that it caused her walls to stretch in the most agonizingly pleasurable way.

“Fuck. You’re so fucking tight.”

She looked at him, saw him so close, and kissed him. It was messy, teeth and tongue. Her hips bucked up, urging him to move. He pulled back to look at her, a picture of utter debauchery. A broken plead left her lips, her pride almost kicking in to stop her from begging, but she let it slip, the quiet, “please,” echoing around the room.

He leaned in to capture her lips once more, happily obliging her. He started a brutal pace, thrust so deep and hard that she felt starts bloom behind her eyes. His fingers snaked down between them to rub at her clit in quick, succinct circles. She screamed as she came. When his name came from her lips, he bit back a groan.

“Say it again,” he ground out between his harsh thrusts. His LED was a solid red and his his body was covered in artificial sweat. “Say my name.”

“Connor,” she moaned. He hadn’t let up on her clit, her entire body thrashing a twitching as he pulled every bit of pleasure from her that he could. She could feel overstimulation start to trickle in, an ache settling in her clit as he continued to assault it. “Connor!”

“Fuck,” he muttered again.

He could feel his own orgasm creeping up, his body tensing as she tightened around him. God, he wanted to cum; he wanted to cum so deep inside her that she would scream his name until everyone heard her.

But he wanted to make her cum again first.

He shifted slightly, pressing her more firmly to the wall so that he could move better within her. As he shifted, he cock hit a part of her that made her scream louder than ever before. Raising an eyebrow, he started to aim for it, his fingers still working her into a frenzy.

“Connor! Connor, please!”

“Please, what?”

She didn’t answer; she couldn’t answer. Instead she kissed him with all she had. She felt more than heard him chuckle. Somehow, he started to ram into her even faster and harder, her back dragging against the wall.

It was the push she needed, arching and screaming as she came around his cock. He groaned at the feeling of her tightening around him; his hips stuttered and he felt himself release into her.

It was quiet as the came down. She had her head resting against the wall, her eyes closed. He kissed her neck as he pulled out and carried her out of the office and to her room. The clock next to her bed and a quick hack into the police department told him that they had about three hours before they came.

He laid her down on the bed, following behind her and wrapping his arms around her. He wasn’t sure how he would get her out of this, but he knew he had to protect her.

He knew that he would save her.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a corruption of Kierkegaard's actual philosophy, but it is a logical conclusion to jump to from what he said. The reader isn't supposed to actually know the philosophy because she just uses it to as a way of protecting herself.


End file.
